14. Gia

14

GIA

S ix years ago, I lay with Max like this knowing he’d be able to give me a lovely experience of making love. I might have been young and na?ve, but I was aware that sex with Aldo wouldn’t be a beautiful moment between a man and a wife. Aldo was all about Aldo’s pleasure. In some ways, that was a good thing as the experience was over quickly. Once it came out that I was pregnant, he avoided me, another benefit. Once the kids were born, I secretly went on the pill to avoid more babies, but Aldo still preferred his mistresses to me, which I was okay with. And then Aldo was dead, and I haven’t been with anyone else since.

I’m not a virgin anymore, but neither am I experienced in giving pleasure. I don’t just want to lie here like I did with Aldo. I want Max to enjoy it too, like he’s wanting me to enjoy it. But as Max fills my body, all I can do is feel. I feel him in me, around me. It’s like I’m having an infusion of Max.

He dips his head down, kissing my neck. “Are you okay?”

“Yes… I… what should I do?”

“What do you want to do?” His voice sounds strained, but he continues to trail kisses along my neck.

“Ah…” I rock my hips, and a jolt of pleasure shoots through me.

Max groans. He hooks his hand under my thigh, lifting it higher. He sinks deeper inside me. My moan mixes with his.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he says, levering up on his hands. “I can’t wait any longer.” He begins to move, in and out, and it’s so blissfully wonderful. I might lack experience, but my body seems to know what to do. It moves with him, against him, rocking, rising, arching.

“Yes… Gia… yes…” His hips rock faster, deeper, and I’m caught up in a firestorm of sensations.

“Max…” I can barely breathe as tension builds, coiling tighter, tighter.

“Come, Gia… Fuck… You need to come now.” His hand reaches between us, his fingers brushing over me.

Like a rocket, I take off, all fire and power sent coursing through my body.

“Yes!” Max cries out, his movements becoming frenetic as he thrusts in and out, pulsing inside me.

My orgasm goes on and on. It’s better than I remember.

It’s moments later before I catch my breath. Max is still lying over me, his weight resting on his forearms as he catches his breath.

Finally, he lifts his head. “Are you okay?”

“Do I not seem okay?”

He studies my face. “No. But I want to be sure.”

I inhale a deep breath, feeling quite satisfied. “I’m okay. Great. I’d forgotten how good it can feel.”

He arches a brow. “Forgot? Didn’t Aldo—wait, no, I don’t want to know.”

I shake my head. “Aldo seemed to enjoy it, but… well… it was all about him. You’re the only one who… you know…”

“Made you come?”

I nod.

Max’s brows furrow. “You’ve never made yourself come?”

“I always just wanted to be done with Aldo?—”

“I don’t mean with him. On your own. You know… masturbate.”

I feel heat in my cheeks at the intimate conversation. “No. I never thought about it. Wasn’t interested.”

His hand caresses down my body. “And now? Was it worth it?”

I smile, still feeling like I’m blushing. “You know it was.”

He laughs. “It was. I nearly couldn’t wait for you.”

It sounds like that should be a compliment. Like I was do desirable he couldn’t control himself. It’s silly, but it makes me feel beautiful, powerful.

“Do you… masturbate?”

He gives me a wicked grin. “All the time.”

I’m fascinated. “Really?”

“Well, maybe not all the time, but regularly.” He doesn’t seem embarrassed to share that.

“Whitley doesn’t?—”

“Whitley hasn’t been in the picture for some time.” His expression darkens, and I’m sorry to have put it there.

“But you feel the urge to touch yourself?”

He shrugs. “I’m a guy. Hunger and sex seem to be our two primal urges.”

“Do you watch porn or something?”

He laughs. “You’re very interested in this, aren’t you?”

I bite my lower lip, feeling embarrassed by my fascination.

“No, I don’t normally watch porn. Mostly, I think about… well… sexy stuff.”

“Who do you fantasize about?”

He studies me for a moment, like he isn’t sure he wants to answer. I’m not sure I want to hear. It’s probably a movie star or a dancer at the casino. “You.”

My eyes widen. “Me?”

“Usually. How perverted is that?” He starts to pull away, but I hold him close.

“Why would it be perverted?”

“You know why.”

“If I touch myself, I’ll think of you. You’re the only one who’s ever made me feel good. Is that perverted?”

“Freud might think so.”

I roll my eyes. “You’re ruining the moment, Max.”

He gives me a wan smile. “Sorry.” He moves, reaches his hand between us. “I need to take care of this.” He rolls away, removing the condom. “I’ll be right back.”

I lie in his bed for a moment feeling uncertain. Did I say the wrong thing? Is this just him coming back to reality? Whatever it is, the moment is gone. I rise from bed and gather my clothes.

“Where are you going?” Max re-enters the bedroom from the bathroom. Looking at his naked form makes me hot all over again.

“I should get back to my room. If the kids wake up…” The last thing I need is Daniella getting up again and finding me like this with Max. I don’t know how I’d explain it to her. And who knows if she’d say something in front of Nic.

“How was your trip with Uncle Max?” Nic asks.

“Fun, but Mommy and Max were naked.”

Yeah, that might not go over well.

I go to put on my blouse but realize my buttons are strewn on the floor.

“Sorry. I’ll buy you a new one.” Max grabs a robe hanging outside the bathroom door. “Here. Wear this.” He helps me into it, and then he slips on sweatpants and a T-shirt.

I start out the door, and Max follows me. “Where are you going?”

“I’m walking you back to your room.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I’m a gentleman.” He gives me a grin, and I’m glad the heaviness of before is gone.

“Worried the kids will catch me doing the walk of shame?”

“Nah, I just want another look at your ass.” His gaze drops down to my backside as he walks behind me.

We reach my bedroom, and I’m caught off guard by how sweet this little gesture is. I wish it could mean something. But this isn’t love. It isn’t even a relationship beyond friends with benefits.

He leans in, pressing his lips to mine. The kiss is gentle, nothing like the heated exchanges we shared in his bedroom, but it holds a sweetness that makes my chest ache for more.

I pull back first, my hand lingering on his chest. "Goodnight, Max."

“Goodnight, Gia.”

I step into my room, closing my door, watching Max through the crack until it fully closes.

The next morning, I find Max standing at the kitchen counter, measuring coffee grounds as Dario and Daniella sit at the island chattering about pancakes.

The familiar morning rhythm settles over them as Max presses the button to brew the coffee and then guides little hands through measuring flour and cracking eggs.

I enter wanting to join the lovely scene. "Morning.”

Max gives me a brief glance. "Coffee's ready.”

We reach the coffee maker at the same time. “Just so you know, I’m not acting like last night didn’t happen,” he says in a low whisper so the kids don’t hear.

I feel heat come to my cheeks.

He pours the coffee into a mug. “But it’s probably not a good idea to bend you over the counter and fuck you in front of the kids.”

“Probably not,” I agree.

His gaze drops to my lips. “Just know that I’m thinking about kissing you right now.” He winks and turns back to the kids.

The pancakes made, we sit at the table to start the day. It feels so normal, so much like a family. I know I can’t get used to it, but I decide to enjoy it while I can.

"The landscaper will be here at ten," Max says, checking his watch. "Whatever playground equipment the kids want, tell him to make it happen."

"Max, we talked about this. It's too much?—”

"It's not up for discussion." His voice is gentle but firm. "The kids need somewhere safe to play. Money isn't an issue."

"But we won't be here that long?—”

"Other kids can enjoy it after you leave. Maria has grandkids. Nic and his family might come out."

I suppose it’s his yard.

"Let them pick what they want. Swings, slides, climbing frames, whatever makes them happy."

"Can we get one of those twisty slides?" Dario asks, syrup dripping from his chin.

"Absolutely." Max ruffles his hair. "The bigger, the better."

I open my mouth to object, but Max silences me with a look. Instead, I wipe Dario’s mouth.

After breakfast, Max leaves for work, and I do the dishes while the kids play. As I finish loading the dishwasher, I’m once again contemplating telling Max about the kids. He’s so good with them, and they clearly adore him. And maybe if he knew the truth, he’d get over his hangups about our age, our roles, our relationships.

Whatever this is between us, it can’t go anywhere. His words from last night come back to me. He wants me, but not enough to risk Nic knowing. Not enough to get over his feeling that it’s wrong.

“Mrs. Cantore, I can do the dishes,” Maria interrupts my thoughts.

“Oh, I don’t mind. It gives me a minute to think.” I hear Daniella yelling at Dario. “Oh, now what?”

Maria laughs. “I’ll finish. You go be with your children.”

“Thank you.” When I reach the kids, I have to confiscate a toy and get them settled for their studies. When I look at the calendar to see what I’m supposed to teach them, I see that Thanksgiving is next week. I wonder if Max has anything planned. He hasn’t said anything.

At ten, the kids are distracted by the landscaper and the catalog of play equipment. If Dario had his way, Max’s backyard would become an amusement park.

Once the landscaper left, I tried to get the kids involved in an activity so I could work, but they couldn’t settle.

“I can watch them,” Maria says from the doorway to our school-slash-office room.

“I can’t ask you?—”

“You didn’t. I offered. We can make some playdough.”

“Can we, Mommy?” Daniella asks, her hands in prayer position as she pleads.

“Well…”

“Come on, children. Let’s let your mommy work.” Maria ushers the kids out of the room.

“Thank you, Maria.”

As she turns away, I remember to ask, “Maria? Is Max planning a Thanksgiving meal?”

She shakes her head. “Mr. Giraldi doesn’t usually celebrate if he’s home alone.” Her brows rise. “But?—”

“The kids and I would enjoy having Thanksgiving. Can we work on that with you?”

Maria smiles widely. “It would be my pleasure.”

With the kids occupied, I settle into work, but not before noting the good people Max has working with him. They respect him, not because he might kill them, as my father ruled, but because he’s a man who garners respect. I know Nic thinks the world of him. And my mother did too. After all, she charged Max with being my godfather. It occurs to me that Nic might be glad to have Max in my life as something else. As my husband. As the father to Dario and Daniella. He’s definitely better than Aldo. And Nic wouldn’t get caught up in the age difference. After all, the age difference between him and Bella is more than that between me and Max. The godfather thing… well, Nic was the one who was the most present while I grew up. I knew Max was there, protecting me, but he was always keeping close to my father. Nic was the one who made decisions about my schooling. Who raised me. Surely, Nic would see that Max isn’t a father figure to me.

I give my head a shake, trying to rid myself of this schoolgirl fantasy. I’ll only bring myself more heartache hoping for something that Max won’t let happen.